SHIELD Classified: The Lost Months
by Halesia
Summary: Journal found among the wreckage of New York sheds light on important details of how Loki arrived on Earth.
1. Chapter 1

S.H.I.E.L.D. Classified: The Lost Months

FORWARD

CLASSIFIED DOCUMENT(S)

Property of S.H.I.E.L.D and retained as evidence

Description: The following was transcribed by S.H.I.E.L.D agents. Document source is a small (20cm x 15cm) notebook discovered among the wreckage of New York city, USA following the events of 12 May 2012. Documents appear to be the laboratory notebook of New Mexico University student Cynthia J. Guarder, 2nd year masters of plant ecology. Documents contain intelligence associated with the extraterrestrial enemy 'Loki', and thus were classified and sealed within the appropriate S.H.I.E.L.D database for the security of the planet Earth and its inhabitants as of 15 May 2012.

Master's Thesis Notebook

By

Cynthia J. Guarder

To be submitted to the College of Ecology and Natural Resources

University of New Mexico at Albuquerque

In partial fulfillment of requirements for a Master of Science with High Distinction and completion of the Honors Program

May 2012

August 16, 2011

Final project objective: Catalogue diversity of plant species in selected areas of the North American southwest and determine the rate by which certain species reclaim previously disturbed land.

Area A (see supplement for coordinates) had been left untouched for a period of five years. Returned today and mapped out locations of approximately 54 individual _Sarcobatus spp_. shrubs. Accompanying sketch displays pattern of distribution.

August 18

Amazing discovery in the rocky pass that surrounds Area B: an _Amaranthus_ specimen was found near the following coordinates (33N by 104W), but unable to distinguish species as inflorescence was not present; will document leaf morphological characteristics for later classification. Leaves are ovate, entire, alternate, approx. 7.5cm long (not including petiole).

August 19

Much has happened since I last wrote. Just this morning, I was diligently collecting samples for my thesis. That small amaranth plant I discovered in the ditch yesterday was so curious that it warranted a second analysis. Upon my return to the site, hideously strange, giant monsters trudged through the desert field in search of something. About five in all, the creatures had bizarre blue skin and piercing red eyes and rose six meters above the ground. A chill seemed to emanate from their bodies, rousing me to take refuge under a patch of desert weeds insufficient for cover. Thousands of questions swarmed in my head as to what they were or from where they came, but none were pertinent enough to distract me from my imminent and paralyzing fear. Of any explanation, I had none save a few uncertain words harbored in my memory. What was it that they said? 'Jotenheim', 'bridge', 'Loki'? While they performed some strange ritual just meters away from my position, I prayed that I would stay unnoticed; to my despair the subsequent lightning strike and windstorm, unmistakably a product of their conjuring, consumed me. Although I had never been struck by lightning before, this experience was far more than electrocution. My entire body was pulled up and away from the ground. Ahead of me lay a stream which I took to be a black hole surrounded by bright lights, but that would mean death. It _should_ have meant death, and yet somehow it didn't. Within the stream, I could not breathe or speak, think or move. It was quite possibly the closest to death I ever care to be, but the worst was yet to come.

When the roar of the lightning tunnel finally ceased, I found myself standing on the stone surface of what looks like the arctic. Towering cliffs surrounded me and cast jagged shadows, shrouding the region in darkness. My desert clothing did little to protect me from the constant unforgiving, biting, and relentless cold. I could do nothing but focus all my attention into retaining body heat. The sky appeared to be night, although it was noon when I left New Mexico. I must have been transported to the depths of a polar region, which would explain the lack of sunlight. Shapes lurked among the cliff sides. Suddenly, I found myself surrounded by the horrible blue creatures, hundreds of them in all directions. Sheer terror forced my body to move and I dove into a crevasse. Bits and pieces of conversation found their way to my ears; curiosity bid me to stay but common sense convinced me to seek safer shelter elsewhere. Behind me: 'Scouting party' 'Thor' 'empty handed' 'you brought a Midgard slave?' 'She'll never survive'.

This frozen wasteland is like no place on Earth. Even a desert can support life in some form, but as for this, not so much as a leaf exists. How can anything survive without plants? How do these revolting inhabitants subsist? What do they eat? For a moment, I was overcome with panic. 'She'll never survive', 'she'll never survive'. By utter willpower, as I hurried through the winding crevice and away from the giant creatures, I was able to collect myself think through the situation logically. Obviously I could not depend on plants for survival, but there was always scavenging. This idea came to me out of the fact that, as I emerged from what had become a tunnel through the ice, I appeared to have stumbled upon a recent battlefield. Clothing and armor were abundant, albeit rather large and sometimes torn. Because the bodies were frozen, the meat should still be good, what choice did I have? Carefully I sorted through the bodies of slain giants, all the while being wary of my surroundings lest any other monsters may inhabit this place. One of the soldiers had a small bag that looked promising, but it was caught under his shield. Once loosened, the shield fell off of the body with a crash and caused one of the surrounding rocks to stir. It was then that I realized that this was no rock. An armor of thick, leathery skin encased the creature, much like a rhinoceros or elephant, but not either of those. It had horrifying red eyes and menacing jaws rimmed with jagged teeth. Horns encircled its face and ran in a line across its back. It did not look vegetarian. In all my years of study, I had never seen a creature anything like this one. It was then I realized that this foreboding icy hell could not be a polar region, and this was no earth. Revelations aside, I knew I could not outrun it, not in my present condition; no my choices were limited to fight or die. There was only a fraction of a second left for me to grab the nearest weapon, a spear, and brandish it forward. The charging rhinoceros-like beast impaled itself on my spear at full speed; I quickly let go and rolled sideways just as its momentum drove its body forcefully into the ground. I sat beside it for some time, my hands shaking from more than just residual fear. The pool of dark blood that was beginning to encroach upon me also carried with it an alien ambiance for which I had no explanation. Its murky black color was all wrong for a mammal and the sheer quantity was enough to make me feel sick. This world posed many dangers, and my best hope of survival was to find a place to hide immediately.

It was nightfall and I took shelter nearby in a small cave. The few minutes of scavenging had managed to yield extra cloth, some frozen flesh, and another spear, just in case. Luckily, the soldier's bag contained two flint stones sufficient enough to produce a spark. It only occurred to me later to wonder what they could possibly use for tinder. Using some of the extra clothing I had collected (far too big for me), I was able to start a small fire and roast the meat. Survival during winter depends entirely on maintaining a fire, but that can only sustain one while she awaits rescue. Will anyone ever come for me? How can anyone know where I am?

All of my sorrows back home feel so small now that all I have left is survival. My Master's thesis, the job outlook, my research… how trivial it all seemed when one has so little energy to devote to even the most basic instinct. I have come to the conclusion that I may surely die here on this god forsaken world. Oh that I could tell my family how much I loved them, that I didn't mean my last words to them…even now as I write, my body is overcome with drowsiness. If I fail to maintain the fire and it burns out while I sleep, I will freeze to death. No one will know where to find me. Let this journal be my last words to whoever may find me. This was my fate.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

August 20?

I awoke this morning in outright astonishment that I had survived the night. At least, it felt like the next morning. I can't be certain even of the date here, as I am sure that I have not seen sunrise since my arrival. By the simple fact that I can see my surroundings there must be sunlight, but the lack of plant life, desolate landscape and unceasing cold lead me to believe that it rarely, if ever, penetrates the atmosphere. A few feeble embers were all that remained of my fire, but I would have no more need of it. Now that my mind was a bit more clear and rested, I was, perhaps irrationally, more confident of my chances of survival here. Judging from the snippets of conversations I'd overheard, I speculated that the blue-skinned creatures were sentient, and I decided to gamble that they might not be hostile. They seem to inhabit this place without difficulty; therefore I could plead with the natives in order to acquire food and shelter for the time being, until I can find a way home. Resolved to this course of action, I gathered what few things were in the cave and retraced my steps toward the cliffs where the blue-skinned giants dwelt, trying to recall as much as I could of the dialogue I'd heard in my flight. Hadn't one of them called me a 'Midgard' something? Midgard? What was that? I remembered there was something about a bridge, and then two names 'Thor' and 'Loki'. Coming from a Scandinavian background, I had always been particularly fond of the Poetic Edda, the 'holy book' of Norse mythology. But what could that mean? Surely I hadn't somehow stumbled back in time, had I?

Still, there were creatures like the blue-skins in those stories. I can hardly believe I'm doing this, but if I use those Norse myths as a basis, these would have to be the Frost Giants, and if I work from that assumption, then I know a fair bit more about these inhabitants. It is true that the giants were a brutal race that constantly threatened war with Aesgard, but they should have no quarrel with me, especially if I try my best to be useful, or at least benign.

After a time, I came upon the jagged valley were the frost giants gathered, which I now took to be a village, and I approached them. They seemed just as astounded by my survival as I had been this morning.

"Excuse me, um, sirs? Would you happen to have any leftover food or a place to stay? I don't need much." I still can't believe I actually said that. Even then, this idea was sounding more foolish by the minute.

Even so, I caused some murmur among the giants, among which I heard several disjointed statements:

"I thought that thing died!"

"It should have been ice hunter bait by now!"

"What does it eat anyway?"

The situation was uncomfortable, but not dangerous. Once the chatter had quieted, an elder giant stepped forward and declared, "Let General Loki deal with this one."

This was met with unanimous approval. Immediately, two giants took hold of me on either side and hauled me out of the enclosed valley and toward the vast expanse of the surrounding landscape. You can imagine the effect this had on my nerves, but I dared not speak up. Instead, in the considerable time it took to reach our destination, I tried to think about what they had said.

They had used that name again, 'Loki'. The _mythical_ Loki was himself actually a frost giant, but had become Odin's relative through a blood oath. Thor loved him as a brother and all other members of Aesgard would not dare harm him as his status was equal to that of the other gods. The giants had spoken of him as if he were a real being though—someone using his namesake, perhaps? He was known for mischief and trickery, and was considered to be a god of fire and magic. There must be more to the story than what little the Eddas have provided me. Even as I write that I still can't believe I'm entertaining this bizarre hypothesis.

My escorts lead me for the most part in silence, walking along a narrow ledge that seemed to be an outcropping of some massive obelisk. The enormity of the place would have struck fear in my heart had I not been so distracted by the cold and the giants gripping my arms. Mile after mile, the land is perfectly flat and icy, except every so often where it is abruptly perforated by monolithic rock formations. Some distance ahead, one of these creations loomed on the horizon like a conical pile of wood stacked upon the glassy terrain. From my captors, I learned that this remote formation was Loki's 'palace'. Not that they were overly concerned with keeping me informed; far from this, the only words I heard from them were spoken to each other as they ignored me. Bits and pieces of their conversation reached my ears.

"He hasn't been back to the palace since the last raid"

"I heard it was not fruitful"

"What do we do with this thing if he's not there?"

"Our instructions were to let Loki deal with _it_. If he is not on his throne at the moment, that is none of our concern. The sooner we rid ourselves of this chore, the faster we can get back to town for dinner. In my opinion, we should have just killed it outright and not bothered with all this pointless walking."

"The general has been demanding more servants, but he continues to turn away and ridicule every one we provide. I think the Elder means to give him something more his size and sickly color. If it is intelligent, let him use it. If not, let him have some of his own insults."

"Intelligent? Intelligent! Ha, I say it's as stupid as any other…"

The overall theme of this conversation gave me a sinking feeling in my stomach. Clearly, the frost giants didn't care if I was actually received by their General, and if he wasn't home, there was no indication as to what these two would do with me. They sounded like they had talked themselves out of killing me, but in this ice-covered desert, who would ever know? The thought occurred to me also that killing me quickly would be more merciful than leaving me to die from exposure. As I weighed the two possibilities, my situation felt all the more hopeless. However, my self-pity was brought to a halt as my escorts and I finally arrived at our endpoint.

The outer structure of the palace was an abstract accumulation of long, jagged rocks standing mostly vertical at odd angles, and crisscrossing each other high above. The effect is as if one tried to construct a tent out of giant pickup sticks. I thought it was a wonder that the whole thing did not collapse upon itself, but on closer inspection I saw that each angled obelisk was entangled and supported by a multitude of others. In addition, the rocks were reinforced by a layer of packed ice, which filled every crevasse. Ahead, the flat rocks seemed to form a long triangular cave. We entered here and walked down a narrow path under a high ceiling until all light entering from the entrance faded away. The path was now illuminated in part by large crystals which perforated out of the walls of the cave every so often, and cast a cold blue light. After what seemed like miles, the cave suddenly opened up into a vast cavernous room. I stepped forward, awestruck at the impossibly high ceiling, which ended in a tiny skylight at the tip of a cone-like roof. The opening, along with the crystals, gave the room a dusty, frigid glow. A sheet of pure ice, perfectly smooth, served as the floor, while the walls were a mass of spiky rock formations. Stalagmites and stalactites were ubiquitous, touching the floor and enveloping the room with serrated jaws. Against the wall opposite me, a large ornate chair was carved into the rock with impressive skill. Towering crystals, easily the size of a man, flanked the chair on either side and provided the same eerie blue glow. Its aesthetic appeal notwithstanding, the chair was empty. My heart sank, as the moment had come when the strange giants would determine my fate. I turned to face them, only to find a perfectly empty cave. The two giants had abandoned me! They must not have thought I was worth their time, and so I giggled in relief at my slight fortune. But now I was once again left to fend for myself, this time in a room as vacant and desolate as the rest of this wretched place. Nevertheless, the new shelter was quite a bit more formidable than the shallow cave I'd left this morning; if only I knew where my host is.

…

One more final note for this entry: I saw something that tested my last tenuous grasp on sanity. Across the cavern and through the stalactites, a crack in the cave wall formed a window to the outdoors. Peering through it, I finally caught a glimpse of a break in the cloud cover. The scene was staggering: upon a nebulous background awash with stars, there were two distinct moons gazing back down at me.

The last shred of any sensible explanation has been swept away. I am not on Earth any more.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

August 23

Well, I eventually found Loki. More accurately, he found me. Other pertinent information, such as my current location and the date, has been elucidated as well. I shall recount this from the beginning.

The past few days were somewhat uneventful. Upon my arrival in the palace, my new host was away on what I now understand to be military business, although he keeps me veritably in the dark. Not knowing when he would return, I camped in a crystal-lit corner of the main part of the cave and went 'scavenging' in Loki's food supply. This in itself posed a great risk, for several reasons. Drawing on my limited experience in this desolate wasteland, I inferred that food is a scarce and precious commodity. If I unknowingly take from the wrong supply, or if by my acclimation toward abundance I take too much, the result would definitely be unfavorable. Fortunately, my petite size required very few calories to maintain. My mind was now set on a few very simple objectives: stay warm, don't over exert myself, and take in only enough food and water to stave off hunger. The first of these was remedied by the fact that I still had with me the flint stones. Spare bits of clothing, broken ax handles requisitioned from fallen giants, and blank notebook papers served me well in terms of kindling. As for the second goal, that was easy enough, as I never much like exertion of any kind on a normal day. I make a note of this because more exercise means more calories burned, and with an uncertain food supply, greater risk of starvation. The thought of this possibility provoked even more fears upon my already taxed psyche. I was alone again in a sea of uncertainty; there was no possible way to determine when this Loki guy would arrive. I had no way to tell time, realize how many days had gone by, or even ask for more supplies when his store diminished. For my part, I had to surrender all hope on a prayer that the general would return in time before I perished.

While I was inundated with this ample spare time, I probed the cavern past what I now recognize as the throne room. Beyond this was a series of catacombs, smaller rock-hewn rooms connected to each other with narrow corridors, not unlike the one that my escorts and I followed to the throne room. Each of these was lit sporadically by the same eerie blue crystals; sometimes these would form on the floors, pepper the walls, or even hang down from the ceilings in unpredictable abstract arrangements. It was clear that many of the interconnected rooms served ordinary functions: kitchen, dining, bedroom, etc. This was evident by how the rocks on the cave floor were carved to resemble furniture of some kind. One room included a large rectangular rock that was low to the ground and covered in furs—bedroom maybe? A much higher rectangular slab, surrounded by heavy stone chairs, was the focus of an even bigger chamber, most likely the dining room. In another, deep grooves were carved into the walls to form rough shelves, upon which was a collection of weapons, armor, and other articles of war. Of all these, the most intriguing was a high-ceilinged, circular room that resembled a smaller version of the throne room. However, instead of empty cave formations, this room was covered from the bottom of the floor to the highest part of the ceiling with books. In fact, it looked like just one giant cylindrical bookcase; there must have been over a thousand volumes! Most of these looked old beyond years, sporting tattered bindings and a fine layer of dust. The content of the collection tended frequently toward large tomes on magic, with the occasional book on war history. Well, I had found my entertainment at least. Beyond the library and down the corridor was a small storeroom where the food supply was kept. This provided me with supplies for three nights.

He caught me huddled in a dark corner, nibbling on a small piece of what I assumed was dry meat. At first he went on a fantastic tirade at the very notion of my existence there, asking how in Odin's name I survived, how a teeny mortal, such as me, lasted this long. I don't think he was angry at me, only stunned, as one might be if they find a single mouse in their home that survived fumigation. If anything, his rage was focused more on his minions and their audacity in presenting him with such a feeble looking servant.

For his part he looked rather exasperated, as if living in the frozen waste was taking its toll on his features. I hadn't the slightest idea how long he had been here. However, he appeared perfectly human in every way: with porcelain skin and normal height; I was beginning to think he may have been kidnapped as well. But then where did he take on the name of Loki?

The thought of the two moons I had witnessed only a few nights ago rekindled my old hypothesis of the ancient Norse myths having some basis in reality. My stories used to say that Loki was often cloaked as an Aesgardien, which would explain this more human-like appearance. His clothing was certainly regal: a dark cape, embroidered tunic, and sophisticated armor covering his relatively slim body. Without the armor, he would look rather lanky, but instead it seemed to give him power. Among his other accoutrements were several rings on each hand, and a symbolic pendant that hung from a chain about his neck, possibly a powerful talisman of some kind. His thoughtful face was elongated with high cheekbones and pointed chin, and curtained with shoulder-length dark hair that looked almost greasy. But his eyes, they had the same piercing aspect as the Frost Giants, as chilling as everything else in this place.

"How in the Nine Realms did you survive that long in Jotenheim?! A mortal! A Midgard wretch! No, no, even better, a little girl!" He was raving again. "How did you even get here?"

"I-I was t-trained in field biology, Sir."

To be honest, I was never sure about what my plan was going to be after I got to this point. Eventually, I'd have to get to Earth, but the immediate goal was to stay alive. I'd best give him a reason not to kill me.

"If you would be so kind as to take me as your loyal servant, I would be most grateful." My hopes were hanging on a limb now.

"I ask for a resilient slave and this is what they bring me—a joke!?" Loki was speaking more to himself now, "I will punish their insolence to the highest degree! I'll-"

"Hey, you're a human and you survived here just fine, we can't be that weak!"

At this, Loki stopped suddenly, and almost laughed.

"You don't know who I am, do you? I am Odin's son, King of Aesgard, master of magic, and a powerful ruler and _god_ compared to all you weak, miserable mortals." His demeanor adopted a more exhibitionistic tone. For someone who could have easily taken offense to being called human, it was a relief he did not take my unintentional insult seriously. Instead, he used it merely an opportunity to parade his power. Oh, good, I thought, he's got an ego. All I have to do is play into his massive sense of self-importance and maintaining his good humor will be exceptionally easy.

"Impressive! You must be so powerful." I clasped my hands under my cheek fawningly. Loki drew closer.

"Your garb suggests that you raided my soldiers, somehow."

"Only the dead ones Sir"

At this, Loki smiled. "Well you must be very resourceful. I may have a place for you yet." With that, he took me back through the corridors and cavernous quarters and showed me to a shallow room beyond the kitchen. Along the way, he picked up a tattered old fur that was strewn on the floor and handed it to me.

"My new servant will need a cleaning rag, won't she?" He was clearly trying to aggravate me. The 'rag' was actually quite a sizable blanket but it had seen better days. I could not begin to conceive of the hellish beast from which it originated, but even in its current torn, stained, and disheveled condition, it was all I had.

"Oh, gee…" I'd started to say, but Loki had already entered the room and was gesturing me to follow.

The immediate appearance of this particular chamber was not nearly as impressive as the other rooms I had explored, the reason being that it was unusually shallow, with a low ceiling. I made another attempt at conversation:

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you put me in a closet"

To this he replied, "You don't, and yes."

He turned abruptly, snickering as he left. Although it was a tight space, the room did contain another low rectangular slab similar to the one in the bedroom, albeit much smaller. A square rock located beside the bed resembled a nightstand, like my own back on Earth. A pang of homesickness stung my heart.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

August 24

I arose this morning to the light emanating from my bedside crystals growing steadily brighter; I guess that's what defines night from day in these caves. The air was chilled and damp, but by folding the fur blanket over double, I was able to keep comfortably warm and maintain padding between myself and the bare rock. My restful night instilled me with fresh vigor and a newfound hope for returning home. Now that Loki had arrived I was sure he would want to send me back through the portal as soon as possible; after all, why would he waste valuable provisions on me? There was also the possibility that he would just kill me, of course, but then why keep me alive through the night? This thought comforted me enough to make murder seem less likely at the time. However, torture and forced labor were not out of the question, as was proved by the events of the day. Consequently, my earlier hopes of going home had steadily dwindled by the evening.

It began shortly after I awoke, as Loki called me into the dining hall for breakfast. I made a slight effort to wash and get ready for the day using the in-ground wash basin in the corner of the room under a row of crystals. Water poured from a spout grafted to the wall of the cave and was controlled by a small knob. Although this system greatly resembled indoor plumbing, I still wasn't sure if there was an actual system of pipes leading to a reservoir, or if the spout was merely concentrating the water runoff within the cave. Either way, it worked and I was in no mood to try to figure it out. With any luck, I thought I would be able to convince my new master to send me back to Earth and I'll be in my own bed by this evening.

Breakfast was delicious, and awkward. We didn't speak much aside from polite gestures about passing certain condiments. For the few days I was alone in the caves, I didn't eat much because the foods were so unfamiliar that I was unsure of what was even edible. This morning, Loki had prepared something resembling oatmeal, but far more rich and creamy than anything I had ever eaten. I found it hard to believe he could even make such a dish with his limited supplies. Loki must have noticed my voracious enthusiasm.

"Keep eating like that, wench, you'll be working it all off soon enough," he scoffed evilly.

My mind conjured visions of mistreated Egyptian slaves laboring under a hot sun during the construction of the pyramids. Well, at least I wouldn't have to worry about the hot sun part.

"What exactly will I be doing, sir?"

"You can start by clearing the table and washing all these dishes!" His tone was malicious.

Dishes, really? Well if he thinks he's punishing me with mundane housework, he's going to have to get more creative than that. Then another thought occurred to me, that of a helpless bachelor; well, I'd better keep these to myself. In fact, if I just work diligently, he might be pleasantly surprised or something…

I carried the bowls and cutlery to a narrow room behind the dining hall. Water dripped from the wall into a basin, not unlike the system I discovered in my bedroom. Dishes from previous meals piled high around the sink, floor, and any other conceivable space. Stacked bowls formed skyscrapers so high they must have been held together with magic. It was as if my new master merely bought a new bowl every time one got dirty! My god, what a helpless bachelor. He leaned against the entranceway laughing maniacally. Whatever dude. It only takes a few odd years of fast-food grunge work to realize that this pile was just a normal day. Back at my old coffee-house job, I got so good at washing mugs and plates, I could be out the door and on my way home an hour after closing.

The double sink in Loki's kitchen allowed me to set up the same system of which I was accustomed. The monotonous pattern: scrape, wash, rinse, repeat, echoed in my mind and helped me push through the daunting pile. Soon, what once was a clogged forest of dishes was revealed to be a sparkling stone-countertop and an extensive flatware set, stacked neatly in the cupboards. I was just ringing out the towel when my master returned.

"I rather hope you enjoy this loathsome toil, I…-where are my bowls?!" His expression became quizzical.

"In the cupboards! Do you ever _use_ these things?"

"Do not take that tone with me, you insolent wench! Just for that, I have another humiliating task you will be forced to complete." He turned quickly, face contorted in a scowl. As he was leaving the room, he bid me to follow.

'What will it be this time?' I thought. 'Dust the endless shelves of horror? Organize the sock drawer of despair?' Best keep these musings to myself. Back out of the kitchen and down the hall, I followed Loki through a narrow passageway that, after quite a stretch, exited outside the fortress. It had been days since I was out of the shelter and the cold, thin air burned my nose. Above us, the sky remained a black canvas shrouded in shadows.

"Step onto the grounds, wench!" He gestured toward the flat, open space just outside the fortress. "Not that far, just enough to see the top of the parapet… there, that's good." I stopped a few meters away from the exit and looked up.

The fortress wall stretched skyward in a smooth, glassy expanse. Its unbroken surface suggested that this particular section of the structure was comprised of a single giant obelisk. Towering high above the barren grounds, the wall did indeed terminate in a jagged parapet, although it was difficult to distinguish it from my angle.

"And just what do you think it is for, my dear?" His tone was ominous.

"Fortifications?"

"Ha. That would be too easy, simple girl. No, those aren't just fortifications; they are also in place to catch all the stray velocifalcons that covet my precious food stores. The stupid things inadvertently fly too close to the traps that just happen to be put in place. Guess who gets to clean these up?" His wicked smile sent shivers of fear and repugnance down my spine.

The ensuing series of events can be briefly summarized, as I carried them out in silence. I was shown a narrow spiral staircase that terminated at the rooftop, and then I was given a set of rough bags to store and carry the hundreds of bird carcasses back down the stairs and into a pit. No other equipment was available to me and I carried out the tedious task with my bare hands. Just as before with the dishes, I found my rhythm in the repetitive movements, and drove through my task in a completely mechanical manner. The only difference was the biting cold, which stiffened my fingers, and the endless, dizzying expanse that surrounded me. It was with all my resolve that I forced myself to look down and focus only on my chore to keep from fainting. One by one, frozen birds were shoved into a bag, and one by one, each bag was carried carefully down the steps and dragged half a kilometer to a foreboding black pit, all while Loki shouted insults from inside the cozy cellar.

"Pick up the pace, you weak human flesh, Joten children do this!"

I did not dignify these with a response. Exhausted, I can barely bring myself to record these events, as my frozen fingers have not yet fully recovered. Perhaps it is the permeating gloom of this alien world, or the strain of all this unfamiliar physical labor, but I am afraid I have all but forgotten my hopes of returning to Earth anytime soon. Therefore, I have no choice but to carry out whatever task my new master assigns me. Complaining and fighting with Loki will only exacerbate my misery. Hence, I have resolved to try my best and hope that my sincerity will make this more bearable. At least, that's the sensible attitude to adopt, if only my host was not so insufferable!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

August 25

The following series of events reiterate my previous conclusion that an optimistic attitude may be my best method of coping with my current situation. As I have reason to suspect that my new master is sadistically tormenting me, it may lessen his gratification in my suffering. Nevertheless, some may find the account of today's chore quite comical, and so I feel obliged to narrate it in detail.

The morning routine was similar to yesterday; we breakfasted together in the great dining hall and then I was set to scrub the dishes, albeit far fewer quantities than the last time. After completing my short task, I visited the throne room to find Loki sitting with a cup in his hands.

"Ah, good, my little servant girl has finished the washing. I need you for something…" he shifted closer.

"Yes, sir?"

"Now listen carefully as this is of utmost importance: I require a special substance that is located deep in the storage vaults of my palace. Don't look so unnerved, I believe you are more than adept to carry out such a trifling errand. Now then, you are to venture down into the cavern, locate a small brown bag containing a fine white powder, and retrieve it for me immediately, understand?" His piercing gaze demanded a response.

By 'more than adept' I assumed he meant that he won't go in the dungeon himself. Whatever the case may be, I had little choice. With a slight bow of my head, I accepted the task and made my way to the lower caverns beyond the kitchen. It seemed simple enough, and I repeated the instructions 'small brown bag… fine white powder' in my head as I walked. Speculations of it being a possible Joten drug drifted in my mind as I wondered what this substance could possibly be. No matter, these details would not affect my ability to complete the task. In a few minutes time, I approached the threshold of the underground caverns and looked down. Oh, God.

Since arriving at the palace, I still had not dared to venture into the cavernous passageways that intertwined below me and only now, as I hesitated at the entrance, did their full magnitude become apparent in my mind. The circular, rock-hewn entranceway to the vaults was located at least one hundred vertical meters above the ground. A narrow, unstable stairway, perched precariously on skeletal columns, carried me deep down into the underbelly of Loki's fortress.

I had to negotiate the stone steps quite carefully, as there was no railing to protect me from the sheer drop on either side. The staircase navigated diagonally down and, after a vexing trek, brought me to a raised platform landing. Weak light from the same blue crystals cast a cold glow on the cavern walls and seemed to bring shadows to life. The ceiling, if there was one, stretched high above me and disappeared into a dense black void, while the surrounding walls displayed a curious variety of formations. I stepped gingerly off of the platform and continued forward on my journey, which was vaguely reminiscent of my initial march to the palace in the company of the other giants. This was due to the fact that in the absence of a solid ceiling, the overhanging blackness could have easily been the night sky, and the impending cave passageways revealed narrow ledges perched high above a bottomless pit. The only difference was the lack of wind, which kept the underground in an eerie stillness, relatively warmer than the outdoors, but not by much. The familiar presence of the blue crystals also served as a constant reminder that I was still safely within the fortress.

Many ledges were high above me or across the endless oblivion, with no apparent point of access. The path upon which I happened to be standing formed its own narrow ledge against a stone wall and, as I walked forward, became slowly wider. All around me there were high cliffs, dark quarries, jagged protrusions, and outcroppings of rock that seemed to lead nowhere. The cavern was a veritable labyrinth, shrouded in murky silence. If I wasn't so afraid of what mysterious danger I could have encountered, I would have been annoyed at the lack of instruction from my careless master. The little bag of white powder could be anywhere! Without any indication of where to begin, I could only move forward and hope that the bag was at least stored in some prominent place.

The path led me deeper and deeper into the caves as my ledge eventually became broader; there were moments when I wasn't even sure I would find my way back. Walls divided the trail into a maddening array of possibilities, with forks veering off into utter dead ends and others leading me in circles. After a while, I learned to stay true to the main track, which was somewhat wider and more attentively lit than the side caves. Above, the ceiling remained always a hazy void, and the air persisted as a still, damp chill. Shadows continued to dance along the walls and, after a time, I became less convinced that my body was their only source. Some of them moved swiftly and then stopped suddenly to change directions, all while I was consistently pressing forward. If this observation wasn't enough to maintain my uneasiness, the cave also occasionally echoed with a distant, cackling laughter. It was a high pitched squeal, clearly nonhuman, that would burst through the silence, but seemed miles away, and then cease as quickly as it started. Reverberations of the sound within the caverns ensured that I would never determine its point of origin. I strained to distinguish any actual words from this cacophony of chatter. There was definitely more than one entity, and they spoke as fast as their shadows moved. I waited in silence a few minutes for the next outburst; it was almost: "A haaa, hee, haa, hee comes…" "Heee hee…" Unintelligible.

With nothing better to do, and no leads as to where I was supposed to go, I had no choice but to hope these creatures of the caves were harmless, and progress forward. The walls flanking my path eventually grew wider and taller, until they opened up into a large domed room, at the center of which was a stone altar. To my astonishment, a small brown bag sat casually on its edge. Ha, easy! (Although I didn't allow myself to become too excited as it may very well end up being a bag of pebbles.) I stepped cautiously forward, and as I did so a colony of bats fluttered about the dome and expeditiously flapped out through the entrance. Bats, of course! Those must have been the source of the swift shadows and the strange chatter. My frivolous imagination was playing tricks on me again. Waves of relief swept over me and I continued lightly toward the center; the task was nearly complete, and the caves were not dangerous after all! Of course I can't be too hard on myself, as it was rather disconcerting having to navigate this cave all alone, I thought as I approached the altar. Taking the little brown bag in my hands, I was surprised at how heavy it was, almost like sand. I opened it, and there was the fine white powder glittering in the blue light of the cave; it did look like a drug. Sharply, I heard, as if right behind me: "Heee Hee ahas it… Haaas th' creeeeeestal… the crystals!"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

August 25 (Continued)

The shrill voice resonated around the cavern walls and seemed to come from everywhere although I could tell it originated from behind. Cold fear ran down my spine as I realized I was trapped in the dead-end room with no alternative than to confront this mysterious opponent. Somehow, I managed the courage to turn around, and saw… nothing. There was nothing there but the entrance to the cavern room as it was before. Huh, I thought. And then the sharp, shrill voice resounded once more—from the ground.

"Th' creeestal powder… I waaaanz it!"

I looked down at the cave floor to see the strangest little mouse-like creature at my feet. About the size of a guinea pig, the thing had massive round ears, bulging eyes, two antennae, bat-like wings folded around its back like a cloak, and short, black fur. It looked at me pleadingly while stretching out its comically small T-Rex arms, festooned with minuscule claws. Well, that's inconsequential. I nudged the pathetic little thing aside with my big toe and made for the exit, chuckling all the way at how I was frightened of such an innocuous little cave creature. Then came its pitiful squeekery:

"Nooooo, th' creeeestaline powder…hee taaaaks it…our fooood."

Well crap. I turned around once more; the thing was on its tiny knees. I approached the mousy animal again and tried to console it.

"There, there little fuzzy guy; you said this was your food? Are there more of you?" Reaching into the bag, I grabbed a pinch of the white powder and let the creature lick it from my thumb with its little tongue.

"Th' Coooolony of the Caaaaaavern Peeeeoples welcomes yoooou. I speeeek as Chieeeef High Prieeeeest, Balladeeeeeer." As the priest stretched his arms to the cavern ceiling, I looked up and finally perceived that the animals I took for bats were actually an entire population of the little flying aliens.

"What pleeeeasure do I have in addressing theeeeee?" I could tell the priest was making a tremendous effort to become more intelligible. (At the same time, I almost wonder how he became fluent in English in the first place!)

"My name is Cindy; I work for Loki, master of these caves." The name sent a slight shutter through the beings, "He requested that I retrieve the crystalline powder. This isn't your only supply, is it? There must be other food in these caves or there wouldn't be so many of you."

Balladeer hung his head sadly, "Alaaas, Csssindy, the pooowder that once was abundant in this rooooom could not sustain us forever. You hold in your claw all that is left. My clan dies slowlyyy as we ration the last creeestals."

Intrigued though I was, there seemed to be something more to the story and as I prompted Priest Balladeer with questions, the mystery began to unravel.

"Loooong ago, our food flowed freeeely from the cavern walls, as sweeeeet nourishing nectar. Our enemies in their greeeeed wanted all the food for themselves. Weeee cannot reeeeach it because of our aaaadversary, the Shaaadowlords."

As I heard his tale, I learned details of the nature of this strange enemy. They were said to be quick as lightning and possess a voracious appetite. If food was not hidden, they would come without warning; a scrape in the night or splash in the water was all a poor cavern rodent would hear before turning around only to find his precious food vanished. Some of the other colony members chimed in with their own personal anecdotes, and I was regaled with stories of mousey heroes charging into the darkness to battle an enemy that cannot be stopped.

"Ok, ok," I interrupted, "I really need this little bag of whatever the hell this is, but I just can't bring myself to take it from you guys. If I help you defeat the Shadowlords, do you think your cave nectar will ever come back?"

"Of cooooourse Csssindy, it flows abuuuundantly from the walls. We just can't reach it before the aaaaadversary. But hark: they do not eat the creeeestals!" Balladeer seemed to be quite grateful for this; although I could hardly see how running out of such a small bag of mystery junk could possibly be optimistic.

"Ok, well, good for you guys then, way to hang in there. Tell you what, why don't you show me to a source of nectar and I'll try to use it as bait. I really need to see what we're up against." Apprehensive looks from the fluttering creatures told me all I needed to know about how they felt. Balladeer remained hopeful, however, and took to the air flying just a few meters ahead as I ran back through the caves, a fluttering mass followed closely behind.

Shortly, we came upon a narrow corridor which led into a chamber of smooth walls. These partitions were somehow slicker in texture than the rest of the cavern…and shiny. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that they were indeed dripping with thin, pale-yellow ooze.

"Well check it out guys, the stuff is everywhere!" I turned and noticed the cave creatures were all huddled together and shifting backward.

"We dare not incur the wraaaath." One whispered.

"Don't be ridiculous." I stepped forward and reached my hand out toward the sticky wall, but just as I was about to make contact with the goo, a black phantasm rapidly whipped across the wall, leaving it utterly bare and dry. Behind me, I could hear the mass of cavern creatures shutter and squeak. I was stunned; how on earth could something move that fast? It didn't seem like a beast at all; it was more like a pure shadow. Of course! The strange movements I observed in the shadows while I journeyed through the caves should have alerted me that something was amiss. The shadows themselves were sentient…crap.

"So how do I beat a shadow?" I turned toward my audience imploringly.

Later, we were all back in the Chamber of the Crystalline Powder, as I was now properly informed of its name. The throng of cave creatures gathered around me in a semicircle, awaiting my wisdom, which to be perfectly honest, I was making up on the spot.

"Alright, I've seen your enemy, and frankly, I think I can handle it," my false confidence was building, if only to seem more reassuring to my new friends. It's not that I was particularly terrified of the Shadowlords myself, but I was completely drawing a blank as to how I could defeat them. "When you think about it, they don't have any teeth, claws, or weapons, do they?" The creatures nodded in agreement. "So we may be able to fight them head on; maybe all this fear is just in your fuzzy little heads!" Silence; I continued, "Well I'll see if I can inflict some sort of injury on them."

Shortly, I had discovered a sharp rock that was just long enough to hold, like a sort of primitive knife. Assuming that the shadow creatures will appear when I came near the cave nectar, I could probably get close enough to use my new weapon. I'd be lying if I said I had absolutely no qualms about this plan, but what could a shadow do?

Back in the nectar room, with the huddled mass of cave creatures recoiling behind the entryway, I stepped toward one of the sticky walls with knife in hand. Just as expected, my approach aroused one of the Shadowlords, which flicked across the wall to devour the nectar before I even had the chance to take any. But that wasn't my aim; I faked my way toward the goo and then slashed at the shadow with my concealed weapon. The shadow wasn't even phased; like a ridiculous kitten trying to catch a laser light, I watched the shadow slip through my improvised knife and clean the wall without the slightest hindrance.

My unsupportive audience tittered in dismay, and I admit that I was slightly miffed myself. However, this was just an experiment, and any good scientist can see the value of negative data. So the enemy really was a phantasm of light; I just learned one way how not to harm them. But how do you trap a shadow?

"So the shadows can't be hurt by weapons and—"

"Weeee could have told you thaaaat"

"—shush, and they are too fast to fight anyway. I suggest that the best way to defeat them is to set a trap; any ideas on how to trap properties of light?"

Dead silence.

"Well good thing you've got me, because I think the answer is to use mirrors." Once I explained the concept to the cave creatures, they were very helpful in collecting and bringing me an assortment of highly reflective mineral rocks found in the caves. The pieces varied in size: from large vanity mirror-type slabs that took at least five of the little fuzz balls to carry, to small pocket-sized rocks that would be convenient for my purse. The trick then was to set up the mirrors in such a way that would prevent the shadows from being able to access the nectar cave and redirect them into a light trap of some kind. The cave creatures and I worked tirelessly to prop the glassy stones in a special zigzag pattern that would utilize the light emanating from the blue crystals and redirect it across the nectar room, creating a faux laser pattern reminiscent of a spy movie. Small dark patches were left intermittently throughout the configuration. I stepped into the room and approached the wall. Suddenly, one of the shadows dashed toward me, but was slowed down by the light pattern. It avoided the rays as if it was burned by them. As was according to our plan, the cave creatures strategically tilted the mirrors to funnel the shadow into a small dark patch enclosed by the lethal light. I took out the pocket reflector and redirected a beam straight into the shadow. A high pitched squeal, then a sizzle, and the shadow evaporated!

Cheers resonated throughout the caves as one by one we incinerated each of the hapless Shadowlords. Really, there should have been victory music. I felt great that my plan had actually worked and the poor starving cave creatures would get to eat again. After some time, the shadows stopped appearing, and we assumed that we got the last of them. Understandably, after so many ages of living in fear of shadows, the cave peoples were reluctant to go near the nectar at first. Then, a tiny mousy one slowly crept toward the wall, hesitated, and then began to lap up the nectar. The audience exploded with glee and a whole hoard of cave creatures flew in to drink their fill. Through the flapping and chaos, I made my way toward the chief priest.

"I caaaanot thank you enough! How can I ever repaaay you?" Balladeer was overcome with joy.

"So I can take the white powder now?"

"Yes, yes! Pleeeeese!"

Back through the caves, crystalline powder in hand, I followed the path that originally brought me down. There was no way to tell how long I had been in the claves, and it was then that I began to worry what my master would think when I came back so late. Would he even believe the incredible story I had to tell?

"Gods, Thor, and Odin you took long enough!"

"I was… down in the caves, I got the magic powder, but there are creatures and…" I had trouble catching my breath.

"I don't have time for your pathetic excuses you worthless servant wretch. Leave it to you to get lost in a broom closet." Loki marched away toward his throne.

"But it's huge down there…and the _shadows_!"

"Never mind, never mind. Now bring me that sugar, I need it for my tea."

"You _ass_."


End file.
